Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Killian, I can't watch you blunder through another group therapy session without telling you the truth, blunt truth, the kind that bleeds noses and breaks bones. Try to remember your parents, your childhood, your first boyfriend and you'll understand why, when the circle gets to you, all you have are "um"s and "uh"s and "ah"s, until everybody looks uncomfortable and breaks for coffee. The first time you opened your eyes was the morning you set fire to my curtains. You are melodramatic, obtuse, beautiful, intelligent, upset, determined, foolish, and a copy of the woman I used to love.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Paige Note To Self #26:

No dating people you can fix. It only leads to trouble.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Josh, you little pig poker, if you think you can worm your way back into my life by haunting my group sessions, you're wrong. Dead wrong. And that little stunt with the roses isn't impressing anyone. I'm allergic.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

I'm going to advise her to go to therapy. You're going to have to play along, with the adequate amount of kicking and screaming to be believable. No more than that. I know the just the guy who get can this across the line.
Paige
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Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Josh, I think we have a problem. Read the enclosed letter and you'll know why I'm cancelling the Paul ruse. I'm worried that she's sharper than she lets on. We have to know how much she knows, about the numbers, about her past and about the Killians.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Needless to say, this incident put a damper on our relationship. After he awoke, which was past noon by the way, he refused to talk about the number. I didn't react as positively as you taught me, pretty much throwing all the Chakra breathing out the window. I set fire to the curtains.

* * *

Thursday, May 05, 2005

I reacted the way my sweet Southern mama always taught me to behave towards a man: I aimed a finger at his eye socket and let loose with a battle cry that would have raised old Stonewall hisself from the dead. I wanted blood. I think I would really have driven it into his brain, too, if not for the fact that his eyes were closed. My dear Joshua was handsome, homicidal and still asleep.